


Pseudonym

by mydeira



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 02:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's in a name?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pseudonym

I tried working for Torchwood. Thought maybe chasing after aliens and defending an alternate Earth would be better than nothing. Turns out that saving the planet isn’t all that exciting when you’re permanently stuck on it. All of space and time and then one space and one time. Neither of which were my own.

But at least my mum was with me. And Mickey. And Pete was almost but not quite Dad. Kind of like this world was almost but not quite home. And Torchwood was almost but not quite the thrill I needed.

After seeing the Doctor again, for the last time, I tried to give it all another go. I was stuck here, what other choice did I have? Did the job thing and the family thing. Even tried the dating thing again. But it all felt forced, took too much effort. The harder I tried, the less I felt.

Mum was the one who suggested I take some time off. Travel. Maybe I’d find myself if I got away from it all for a bit.

So I did. Hit all those exotic earth-bound places I’d read about, most of which were the same as on my Earth. And if they were different in subtle ways, how would I know? Though, the Sphinx is just one lone paw in a pile of sand and there’s only half a pyramid in Cairo. But yeah, the rest was the same for all I could tell.

It was when I started heading back that things changed. I was laid over in Paris; the next zeppelin wouldn’t leave until morning, so the night was mine. Hadn’t gone out much while I was traveling, but it seemed a shame not to that night. It was Paris. You had to go out when you were in Paris.

So I tracked down a swanky club, bought some posh clothes courtesy of my not-dad and hit the town. That night I met Jeremy, a uni student on hols from London. We chatted some about the home country, and he bought the drinks.

A couple hours in he’d said, “You know, in all this time, I don’t think I caught your name.”

I had smiled and replied easily, “Reinette.” Maybe it was the location or that third cocktail, but I’d decided I didn’t want to be Rose that night. I hadn’t been Rose for ages, really. Reinette was no further from the truth than Rose was.

“Fancy name that,” he’d commented.

“Yeah, my mum took a fancy to the name round about when I was born. Had high aspirations for me, I guess.”

I forget what other lies I told him that night. But I do remember that it was the first time I’d enjoyed sex since, well… What does it matter anyway? Taking the name of the not quite queen freed me somehow. Made me feel more alive than any near-death experiences had in this place.

Didn’t think much of it at the time. Went on my way the next morning and was settled back in at Mum and Pete’s by nightfall.

A week later, Mickey and Jake dragged me out to a club. Can’t recall the name of the bloke I hooked up with that night. Told him my name was Romana. I still haven’t figured out who she was, but the few times the Doctor mentioned her, she seemed to be someone fairly important. At least to him. And Reinette didn’t feel right on home turf. Regardless, the sex was fantastic. Had even more fun with the nameless bloke than with Jeremy. Shame I can’t remember his name.

The third time it happened, I decided I just might be onto something. The bar had just opened. Pete’s clout got us in without a second glance. I think it was the tropical theme, but that night I introduced myself as Jabe. She’d been rather exotic, and I felt exotic. Pulled a pair of twins that night. Thom and Tim. Spent that night and a good portion of the next day with those boys. Have spent several more with them since. I tend to look them up whenever I’m really missing Jack.

Carried on like that for months before any of my small circle got suspicious, and even then it was just Mickey. But all he did was ask if I was happy. I told him yes, which seemed to be enough.

I keep my going out solely to the weekends, trying a new club or bar almost every time. I only return to the same spot if it’s been several weeks between visits. Don’t want to stumble across a bloke I’ve shagged and use the wrong name with him.

I also switch up the names, depending on my mood. Jabe for my wild nights. Romana and Reinette for fancier dos. Lynda, don’t you dare forget the Y, is my girl for the nights I didn’t want to think. Sarah Jane has become my go to for the nights when I feel closest to the girl I should have been. The girl the Doctor wanted me to be.

All the names I use are names of women that had caught the Doctor’s interest when I was with him. Not the healthiest of choices, I suppose. But they work. Why mess with that?

Just one night I tried being Rose. It didn’t feel right. I ended up going home alone. Didn’t cry into my pillow or anything so sad. Though, I was pretty down for the next week, until I went out again and resumed my game.

I suppose I should feel guilty, for the lies. But calling myself Rose is just as false. Maybe I really did die the day I got trapped here. Someday I’ll stop relying on those other women to give me a taste of life, once I sort out who I am.

A lifetime ago I renamed myself, scattering my new name throughout space and time. I don’t have that luxury now, but there are other ways. Maybe one morning I’ll wake up after a night of debauchery, in some future bed, and know who I am. The Doctor wouldn’t care much for the theory, but I’m sure Jack would love it.

Until then, I’ll keep on being almost but not quite Rose on this almost but not quite Earth pretending to be women that were almost but not quite what the Doctor fancied.


End file.
